


Welcome Back

by MaggiesAngel



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Angst, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Love, Mythology - Freeform, Oral Sex, Sex, Soulmates, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 01:36:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10731456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggiesAngel/pseuds/MaggiesAngel
Summary: In a world where the gods still walk among us...Psyche is named after a famous Greek princess. She's surrounded by a few of Greek legends and a Celtic demi-god, living her life simply. But Psyche begins dreaming about strange things, seeing herself doing things and being with people she doesn't remember.Her life is suddenly changed when a man from her dreams appears before her; a man she cannot believe is real. Psyche wonders what is real and what is dream?Story originally appeared in the anthology Love Slave: Dark Desires.BIG thank you to the lovely CM Peters, who made the cover for me.





	Welcome Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morriggann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morriggann/gifts).



 

 

 

_Firelight danced on the marble walls and across her skin as she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind. She knew the feel of his skin, the scent of his body. She gazed down and marveled at how tanned he was next to the ivory paleness of her own body. He turned her in his arms and she reached up, running her hands through his long, thick golden locks. Tilting her head up, he kissed her obligingly._

_Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to their bed, setting her on her feet so he could pull the silken dress from her body. His hands skimmed her sides, coming up to cup her breasts as his beard scratched her face. His tongue probed her mouth, dueling with hers as she groaned..._

****

Psyche woke with a pant escaping her lips, the sheets thrown off, her body wet and throbbing. The dreams had been coming to her for months and they were so realistic and erotic that it frustrated her to wake up alone. Other times, the dreams were joyous celebrations; sometimes, they were filled with pain. Only one thing was constant: him.

She could never see him clearly when she woke, but when she was dreaming, Psyche knew him like she knew herself.

Groaning in frustration, she glanced at the clock: it was only minutes until her alarm was due to go off anyway. She went quickly for a shower and headed to school.

With only a morning class today, Psyche sat on a bench in the courtyard with her best friend Dana, soaking in the sun as the women chatted. Looking across the square, Psyche froze, unable to believe her eyes; across the courtyard was someone coming straight out of her dreams, or a simple delusion. Standing, the book she was holding in her lap fell to the ground, forgotten, as she stared. Almost as if he felt her gaze, the man turned, looking directly at her. His startling blue eyes flared in recognition, his lips quirking up slightly.

Psyche's heart leapt into her throat until Dana's voice drew her back. "Psyche? Psyche, what is it?" she asked, standing next to her in concern, a hand on her arm, gazing over the courtyard, confused.

Turning to glance at her, Psyche turned back quickly but the man was gone. Taking a few steps forward, she frowned and searched the crowd for his striking features; green hair that stood out, since it was the shade of emeralds in sunlight, and blue eyes that changed shades like the shimmering colors of the oceans. But they were gone; he was gone.

"That man..." Psyche started. She frowned and turned to her best friend, rubbing her forehead. She smiled sheepishly, shaking her head as she tried to think of an explanation that would make sense to the young demigod. "I told you I've been having some really weird dreams lately, right?"

Dana rubbed the other woman's arm gently. "You've mentioned it. Wait, the hottie?!" she asked.

Letting out a laugh, Psyche bent to pick up her book, putting it into her bag. "No, not him. Just...someone from the parties, I guess. He looks like someone from there. Maybe I've seen him around campus and that's why he's familiar. His features are...distinct," she said, hesitating.

"Well, you do have empathic abilities, so maybe a bit of both?" Dana offered with a frown.

"Yeah, maybe," Psyche replied with a sigh. "Anyway, I should go. Working a full shift at the pub. See you there later?"

"Yep, bringing everyone in to visit," Dana confirmed.

Nodding, Psyche kissed her friend's cheek and headed home. She had enough time to shower and change before heading in for her bartending shift.

After a refreshing shower, Psyche emerged from her bathroom. She pulled her long hair into a messy bun on her head, pieces falling out to curl down around her shoulders, and paused at the foot of the bed to stare at the painting she had created over it. The canvas was 4'x3', enormous, and she had hung it over her bed. The scene was one of the most famous scenes of the classic myth: Psyche discovering Cupid, but she had gone into such detail, she had almost scared herself. Dana had commented that it was almost as if you could reach out and expect to touch the warmth of skin, not the coolness of oils and canvas. She had fashioned Psyche after herself, wearing a sheer, dark blue negligee, the shading on her skin matching the candle she held in the painting.

She could never say where the inspiration for Cupid had come from, but his face had been so incredibly clear in Psyche's mind; He was breathtakingly handsome, his bronze body muscular, strong jaw covered by a short, blond beard, high cheekbones.If you stood close enough to the painting, it was to see Cupid's eyes were open just a slit, revealing startlingly bright blue orbs: he was awake and aware of Psyche, his shaft semi-erect already, a small smile playing on his lips.

Every time Psyche saw Cupid, he stole her breath, making her stop to look at him. It was the strangest sensation, but it was almost painful to walk out of the room, to be out of his sight.

Shaking her head, she grabbed her leather jacket and left, knowing that at this rate, she was going to be late. Ever since the dreams had started, it seemed she was late for everything and it was completely out of character for her.

Since it was mid-week, the pub was slow. Dana arrived with their common friends while Psyche poured drinks, dancing to the music behind the bar. It was just after midnight when her manager told her she could go for the night. Grabbing a drink, Psyche joined the friends who had stuck around to see her after her shift. One of those who had waited, was Odysseus.

The man was thousands of years old, but only a knowing eye would have known. He appeared just over thirty, was handsome, and had taken good care of his body. He was playful and very flirtatious, teasing Psyche, Dana, and their other female friends mercilessly, and it was always with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He spent a lot of time working on his car, a beautiful blue Impala, and at the moment, he and Dana were seeing one another.

Curling one leg under her in the booth, Psyche stared at the beer bottle in her hand, spinning it around by the neck with her fingers. Her mind was miles away, trying to get back into this morning's dream, not even aware of her surroundings. Odysseus touched her shoulder, running his fingers down her arm playfully. "Psyche? Hey, Psyche, you still with us?" he asked.

Blinking, she looked at him, her eyes confused. "Sorry, what?"

"I was asking if you're still with us," Odysseus replied with a small chuckle, taking his arm from around Dana and leaning onto the table. Turning serious, his eyes probed hers with concern. " _Are_ you okay, Psyche?"

She blushed, having been caught in a daydream, and she nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

"You haven't told him?" Dana asked with surprise. When her friend shot her an evil look, Dana smiled. "Come on, I know you and Odysseus are close, and he's friends with Rion. I thought you would've told him about the dreams by now. It's been months."

"No one from my family knows, _blabbermouth_ ," Psyche replied through gritted teeth, glaring at the other woman.

"Dreams?" he asked with a frown. "What dreams?"

"Nothing to worry over, Odysseus," Psyche replied easily. "I'm fine."

Dana shook her head. "I'm sorry, I won't mention it again," she apologized.

"But you are going to tell me, Psyche," Odysseus insisted, his voice stern.

Staring at him, she frowned; it wasn't until times like these that Psyche remembered just how old he was.

"I mean it, Psyche," he continued, shifting closer to crowd her in the booth. "Tell me what's going on. It isn't like you to be off in dreamland," he said. "Dana, yes. Not you."

Ignoring the joke, Psyche sighed. "I've been having these dreams for the last little while. They seem more like...memories, really, from a long time ago. I can't see anything clearly when I wake. I have no idea whose memories they are, what's happening, nor what era it is. They're...distracting, but it's no big deal," she explained.

Odysseus frowned, thinking over what had been said. After several minutes, he shook his head, laying his hand on her forearm. "I don't remember hearing anything like this before. I don't know what to tell you."

Psyche smiled and patted his hand. "I didn't think you would, which is why I haven't mentioned it before. And please, don't tell my brother. I don't want to worry anyone, and you know Hyperion will just want this investigated to the ends of the Earth. He'll want me to move home, or worse yet, move in with him until something is sorted out," she said, groaning.

"I won't say anything to Rion, or anyone else, you have my word," Odysseus promised.

"Good," Psyche replied, kissing his cheek before offering a smile to him and Dana. "I've got to get going. I'll see you in class tomorrow, Dana. And here, tomorrow Odysseus."

Pulling on her leather jacket, she took out the bun in her hair as she walked outside. It fell in curly waves down to her waist, still damp since it had been wet when she pulled it up. Sighing in relief at having her hair down, and a touch of exhaustion, Psyche ran her hands through her hair, before she pulled the coat tighter, a breeze picking up in the fall night.

Heading towards her car, Psyche noticed a man on the sidewalk ahead; jeans, a denim jacket, long blond hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, a dark blond beard. His eyes were focused on her; she could feel it even in the dark. She caught a glimpse of them and her steps faltered, her mind flashing briefly back to her dream. She frowned slightly, hearing her named called from behind her. Turning, she glimpsed Odysseus holding up her cellphone, before headlights in her periphery caught her attention.

Whirling, it was to see a car barreling down the side street she was crossing. The car blew through the stop sign, going so fast it threw Psyche up onto the hood and into the windshield. She flipped over the roof and rolled onto the rest of the car.

As she bounced off the trunk, she was tossed to the ground and laid there, crippled with pain. If she'd had enough breath, she would have screamed endlessly; agony ripped through her body. She had never had broken a bone before, even if she'd come close as a child. She knew she wasn't so lucky this time. Her legs felt like they were laying at awkward angles and she knew at least a few cracked ribs, but it was the blinding pain in her head, feeling like an axe was embedded in it that scared her the most.

Psyche heard the car speed off as running footsteps approached from both sides. She heard broken pieces of conversation above her, her eyes fluttering, as she recognized Odysseus' voice and who she assumed to be the stranger.

"...I didn't know..."

"Apollo could..."

"...meet you there..."

"Psyche?" the stranger said, stroking her hair gently. She flinched when he touched her head wound. "I know it hurts, love. I'm taking you to someone who can heal you," he promised.

Psyche licked her lips, tasting blood, and tried to nod. She found she could, in fact, scream when he lifted her, her body tensing before the world went blissfully black.

*****

Waking to the shrieking in her head, Psyche rolled onto her back, barely aware the pain in the rest of her body was gone; her every fiber was focusing on the agonizing pain in her brain. Anguished whimpers came from her chest, but each one heightened the hurt vibrating in her skull.

"Psyche, can you hear me?" Odysseus asked softly, kneeling next to where she lay.

"Pain," she whispered, reaching up to hold her head in both hands. "Odysseus...it hurts...so bad," she panted.

"I know, little one," another voice said.

Psyche couldn't even open her eyes to look to where the voice came from, but found it soothing as she heard it. When she felt hands move hers and touch the sides of her head, she shrieked and tried to pull away, grabbing at wrists.

She felt the couch dip and she opened her eyes a slit to see the stranger from the road taking her wrists gently. His face was etched in pain as he held her, shushing her softly.

Psyche cried out, tears on her cheeks as the hands continued to hold her head gently, if steel could be gentle, and the man began to murmur softly.

"Please," she whimpered.

"It'll be over soon, Psyche," Odysseus whispered, stroking her arm.

The man was true to his word, and within a few minutes, the pain eased, then was gone altogether. Psyche blinked, finding herself drained, and her body slumped into the couch. The man behind her released her head, and she looked to Odysseus, frowning heavily. "I...don't...understand," she breathed.

"You're in the house of Apollo, Psyche," Odysseus explained softly, sending a grateful look to the god. He then looked at the stranger who still sat on the couch.

Psyche blinked heavily, realizing the man was still her wrists. He reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks and she frowned. "You...?" she murmured, her voice slurred.

"You need to rest, little one," Apollo advised, smiling down at her. "Your body has been through a great ordeal. I've healed your injuries, but you need sleep. Your body has to finish what I've started."

She forced herself to look at the god, before looking back at the man who still sat next to her, her face showing her confusion. "How...can it...be you?" she whispered, still confused. Psyche had so many questions, but her eyelids felt as if there were weights on them. She stubbornly blinked several times, trying to wake herself up. She grabbed the hand of the man who sat next to her to speak to him, but she knew the battle was lost as her hearing faded slowly, until there was nothing.

*****

Psyche opened her eyes slowly and licked her lips, groaning when she felt her mouth was filled with cotton. She glanced around the room, frowning, trying to remember what had happened, when her eyes focused on _him_. Freezing, Psyche licked her lips again, before she pushed herself up, sitting with her back against the armrest. Her eyes were wide and her breath unsteady.

"How do you feel, Psyche?" he asked softly.

"It's you," she breathed, pushing herself to her feet unsteadily, feeling light-headed and sitting on the arm of the couch. Putting her hands in her hair, she stared at him and shook her head. "I'm losing my mind. I can't believe this. I'm losing my mind," she muttered. "You're... _Cupid_."

His eyes widened as he stood. "I prefer Eros, but yes," he replied gently. "I wasn't certain you'd remember."

"I...I don't, but I do," Psyche replied, laughing softly. "Which sounds strange, I guess. But...how do you know me?"

She watched him lick his lips and realized she could feel his uncertainty in her own chest. Psyche's dreams suddenly slammed into place, making her own eyes widen. "You're not...I mean...I'm not...It's _not_ real," she stated flatly.

Eros chuckled, shrugging slightly. "You know Odysseus," he reasoned gently as she collapsed to sit on the couch again. Coming to sit on the coffee table in front of her, Eros caught her gaze and held it. "Your best friend is the daughter of a Celtic goddess. And you recognized Poseidon's son on campus yesterday..."

"Triton," Psyche breathed, the name suddenly coming to her as she looked at Eros; the green-haired man from the courtyard. Her eyes widened as she stared at Eros, almost panting as she spoke. "I...I didn't remember his name before now. Seeing you...or hitting my head, has suddenly released...I don't...How...?"

"Breathe, Psyche," he counselled gently, his deep voice soft. "Slowly."

Taking a deep breath in through her nose to steady herself she frowned. "I'm so tired," she whispered. "But I've been asleep for...how long now?"

"The healing sleep isn't quite the same, little one," Apollo announced from the doorway.

Turning, Psyche stood slowly, putting a hand out to steady herself, a little woozy. "You saved my life. Thank you...doesn't seem like enough," she said sheepishly.

"It was my pleasure, Psyche," he said with a courtly bow. "I am certain we will see one another again."

"He's right," Eros said. "You'll feel better after you get some more sleep, I promise." Holding out his hand, Eros added, "I can take us to your apartment, without the need to walk. It will help conserve your energy, Psyche. If you like?"

Swallowing, she glanced at Apollo and gave a small nod, before taking Eros' hand. She barely blinked that they were at her apartment. Giving a nervous laugh, Psyche let go of his hand, taking a few steps away before turning back to him. "Okay, I need to ask some questions. I'm sorry, I just...I'm _the_ Psyche?"

He nodded, smiling slightly. "Yes, you are _the_ Psyche of legend. You were...also my wife," he whispered.

"Wife? Wait...wife? That was never in the legends!" Her voice was breathy as she stared, and he nodded in response, his face carefully watching her. _It would explain my dreams, though,_ she realized. Shaking her head and waving her hands as if to physically push away what she didn't want to deal with, Psyche turned to him. "Okay...wife. What else can you tell me?"

A soft sigh fell from Eros's lips as he leaned back against the couch's arm, his hands resting on his thighs. Looking up, he met her eyes, his own tight as he said, "You have to understand, I would like nothing more than to tell you everything. Psyche, I want to tell you, to help you remember every minute of our life together. But I know from Odysseus and Dana, that aside from dreams, you remember nothing. And I don't want to overwhelm you. You've started to remember if you recognize me, and Triton. It will come back. I just don't want to force your mind until it's ready."

Psyche let out an impatient sigh, growling, "Fine."

"Still impatient, I see," he replied with a chuckle, taking off his denim jacket.

Her breath caught as his upper body was revealed to her. He wore snug blue jeans, a tight white tee-shirt that was molded to his torso, revealing every ripple of muscle as he moved. His hair was long and dirty blond, still tied at the nape of his neck as she had first glimpsed him last night. Psyche met his sky-blue eyes, and she knew them; she always had. Right now, they watched her carefully, as if afraid to scare her.

She closed her eyes and she remembered what his body felt like under her hands. The memories of him were incomplete, he was right about that. She knew pieces were missing, but the more she thought on it, the more she wondered how she could have ever forgotten him. Even the painting hadn't triggered her memory. _And it should have, dammit!_ she scolded herself.

She found herself staring as she opened her eyes, studying his face, examining every detail, trying to commit him to her memory again.

"What is it, Psyche?" Eros finally asked, studying her as well.

Blinking, she gave a small smile. "I want to show you something," she replied quietly.

Crooking her finger, she made certain Eros was following her down the small hallway to her bedroom. Once inside, she was across the room as he entered. Psyche studied his face as his eyes swept over the room in slight confusion, before he saw the painting.

He gasped. "Where did you get this?" he whispered.

"I painted it," she replied, smiling when he turned to look at her in surprise. "I painted Cupid...Eros, without knowing where the inspiration came from. He just...appeared on the canvas. And even then, I still didn't remember you," she whispered, her voice almost pained.

Eros turned to see her staring at him, tears in her eyes. "Psyche..."

" _How_ could I not remember you?" she whispered, stepping closer and putting her hands on his chest, resting her forehead against him.

"It takes time, my love," he whispered softly, kissing the top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her.

Psyche had always trusted quickly, but she could feel what he was feeling, the relief at holding her. She couldn't tell if it was actually his or her own at being in his arms. "I know your smell," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him and up his back.

Frowning, she pulled back to look up at him. "Your wings," she said, frowning harder. "I...I never used to be able to run my hands all the way up your back...because of your wings? Or am I wrong?"

Eros laughed, cupping her face. "You're not wrong," he replied, pulling away from her. He turned so Psyche could see his back, and pulled his shirt over his head and off in a fluid movement.

She gasped at the most intricate artwork she had ever seen. Reaching out to touch his skin, she was amazed at the detail: tattooed on his back were hundreds, maybe thousands of feathers, just the outline and shadowing, the color being the flesh of his skin. They covered his shoulders, all down his back to disappear into the waist of his jeans.

"Eros, it's beautiful," she murmured. "But how?"

Smiling, he glanced at her over his shoulder, while she kept running her hands over his skin.

"It was agreed, once our pantheon fell out of favor, I would need to appear less...conspicuous for when I was among the mortals. This was the easiest solution," he explained.

"Can you still fly?" she asked curiously.

Turning, Eros nodded, flashing a bright smile. "When I need my wings, they come out of my flesh. He stared at her, drinking in the sight of her. "Can I hold you again? It's...it's been a long time."

Psyche realized that though she had forgotten him for a few decades and it felt painful now that she'd found him, for Eros, it must have been near torture; he had been living without her for centuries. Stepping into his body, Psyche buried her face into his chest, her hands running over his shoulders and back as if she was touch-starved. She felt the same need in him when he buried one hand and his face in her hair, the other rubbing her back.

Burying her face into his chest, Psyche yawned slightly, leaning her forehead against him as she blinked heavily. She gave a small laugh, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry, Eros. I don't understand! I'm exhausted, but I slept for at least six hours!"

"Your body was healing, Apollo told you that," Eros replied, stepping back from her slightly. He cupped her cheek, stroking it lightly with his thumb. "I wouldn't be surprised if you slept for the rest of the day."

Psyche reluctantly stepped away, walking to her dresser. She tried to think of what she had to wear that covered her body, other than a teddy, considering she normally slept nude. She heard Eros turning to leave, and looked up. "Don't go, Eros. Please?"

He stopped, glancing at her over his shoulder, shirt in his hands. Eros said nothing, but his eyes held a question.

Blushing, Psyche broke eye contact and said, "Just let me get changed, and get what's leftover of this makeup off in the bathroom. The bed is big enough for both of us. And...I just found you. Please don't leave."

Eros looked at her, but Psyche turned her head away. Walking over to take her chin, he tilted her face up to meet his eyes and saw the loneliness she couldn't hide. She turned her head out of his hand, even as she felt Eros hug her from behind, knowing what he had seen. His lips on her temple forced her to let out a shuddering sigh.

"I wouldn't have begrudged you for finding someone, Psyche," he murmured softly in her ear, kissing her head again. "You didn't know about us."

"No one...fit," she whispered, hugging his arm around her waist as she shook her head. "Even without knowing...they just weren't you. People said I was too picky." She laughed, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Who would've guessed, I was waiting for the God of Love?"

Eros chuckled, kissing her cheek. "Go, freshen up. I'll be here," he promised.

Psyche blushed, grabbing some things and moving into the bathroom. After the door was closed, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and almost groaned. She had Eros in her bedroom, and she looked like hell. The remnants of last night's makeup were smeared around her blue-green eyes, giving her the appearance of a raccoon and making her eyes look brighter than usual. More of her makeup had run down her face, making her seem paler than usual, almost ethereal.

Running her fingers through her hair, Psyche sighed. "I look terrible," she muttered, shaking her head. _Then again, I've been plowed down by a car, almost died, healed by a god, slept for over six hours. I probably don't look too bad then,_ she thought to herself, snorting.

Stripping out of her clothes and dropping them into the hamper, she removed her makeup and washed her face, sighing softly. After lathering on some moisturizer, she pulled on a pair of drawstring shorts and a tank top, checking the mirror one last time to make sure the clothes were in place. She then stepped back into the bedroom.

When the door opened, Eros looked up, smiling gently at her. "You look beautiful," he murmured.

Psyche gave a small nod in thanks, padding barefoot to pull down the covers. She crawled into bed and laid on her back, watching Eros get onto the bed wearing his jeans. Noticing the waistband of boxers, she licked her lips and flushed, saying, "You're going to overheat in those."

Glancing up to meet her eyes, Eros studied her face, then stood and stripped out of the denim, setting it across the end of the bed.

Psyche's mouth went dry and she had to close her eyes at the sight of him in boxers, her mind drawn back to her dreams. His body was sculpted unlike any she had ever seen, and she couldn't take her eyes off him. He moved to lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, his eyes studying her, much like she was him.

Her eyes fluttered and she looked at him. "Do I look the same?" she asked curiously.

His fingers reached out to trace down her cheek as he nodded. "Exactly the same," he replied. When she stifled a yawn, Eros grinned and leaned in to press his lips to her forehead. "You need to sleep, Psyche."

Shuffling in closer, she pressed herself into his body, wrapping an arm around his waist, her head over his heart. Psyche felt Eros wrap his arms around her, pressing his lips on the top of her head. As sleep sucked her under, she wondered how she had ever lived without this man. Though she had known him only a few short hours, in her heart, she had known him all her life.

*****

Psyche woke from her dream with a soft moan, wrapping her arm tightly around the chest she held, looking up in surprise to see Eros staring down at her. "You're still here," she whispered.

"I'm not letting you go again," he replied, voice just as soft, though firm.

Leaning up, she cupped his face, stroking his beard with the tips of her fingers for a moment before moving up to kiss him with a dark sound, almost a whine deep in her chest.

Taking her face in his hands, Eros rolled her onto her back with a groan, deepening the kiss with a thrust of his tongue, exploring her mouth before he drew back, breathing heavily. Resting his forehead on hers, he stared deep into her eyes, whispering, "You barely know me in this life, Psyche. Don't feel you need to do this..."

Running her hands down the back of his body, she slipped them down into his boxers, gripping his ass as she bit her lip and grinned. "I may have forgotten for a little while, Eros. But...I feel like I've always known you," she murmured, licking up the column of his throat and digging in her nails slightly.

The action made him growl softly, thrusting his pelvis into hers. Psyche hissed in pleasure at the friction even through their clothes and spread her legs wider, feeling him settle even more against her. Bringing one hand up, she pulled the tie from Eros's hair, letting it fall around them as he leaned back down to kiss her again.

Moaning into his mouth, Psyche whimpered as one of his hands came to palm her breast through her tank top. She arched her back, forcing more of her breast into his hand as his lips trailed down her neck, nipping and licking a path that left her shivering and panting beneath him. "Eros, please," she cried as he suckled her nipple through her shirt.

He chuckled, a low, pleased sound. He tugged the garment off her body and threw it aside. Descending on her again, he pulled as much of her flesh into his mouth as he could, teeth and tongue playing, before pulling off with a loud sound and moving to her other breast.

Psyche used her legs to caress his own, her hands gripping Eros's hair in place, her hips shifting restlessly. She could feel him throbbing against her through their clothes. Sliding one hand down his chest, she ran her fingers into his boxers and grasped him, running her thumb over the head of his erection, feeling him already seeping. Psyche felt his body shudder over her as he pulled his mouth off her breast with a deep growl. Eros nipped between her breasts, soothing the spot gently with his tongue before continuing down her body, forcing her to let go as he moved too far for her reach.

Untying the drawstring of her shorts, Psyche looked down to meet his eyes. She raised her hips to help as he pulled the garment slowly down over her body. His mouth followed his movements, his lips on her skin, leaving wet kisses. He threw her shorts onto the pile of clothes on the floor. Psyche moaned as Eros's hands caressed her thighs when he spread her legs, settling on his chest on the soft mattress.

Eyeing her core, Eros rubbed his chin against her curls and hummed. "You smell the same," he said softly. "I wonder if you taste the same..."

Before she realized his intention, Eros buried his face in her lips, tonguing her deeply, licking as far inside her as he could reach. Psyche cried out, gripping his hair as her thighs tried to close around his head, her own thrown back into the pillows. She felt his hands close around her legs, holding her open to him as she finally looked down at him. His bright blue eyes stared at her while he feasted, pulling back slowly to slowly lick her entire slit with the flat of his tongue.

Psyche's eyes rolled back into her head as he suckled on her nub, one of his hands moving, his fingers stroking just at the edge of her entrance. "Eros...please," she whispered.

"Please, what?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow and grinning at her, his digits still playing along her body.

"Uuuugggghhhh, please!" Psyche whispered, begging. "Inside me! Something inside me!"

"Mmm, of course my love," Eros replied, his voice rough. Pursing his lips around her nub, he thrust two fingers inside her slowly.

She groaned, feeling tight around them. He curved them knowingly, making Psyche squeal when he added a third finger, stretching her slowly. Her body was like an instrument, and Eros the musician who knew it well.

In seconds, Psyche was screaming, her body clenching tightly around his hand, her hips grinding harder down into his mouth. She reached up to grab her own breasts, plucking her nipples, moaning loudly.

Letting her ride his hand, Eros gave little licks as her body jumped, pulling his fingers from her as she calmed. He sucked them clean and groaned at the taste, then climbed her body, kissing her deeply.

Still panting, Psyche gripped his hair, tasting herself on his tongue as she hummed into his mouth. "Oh gods," she whispered when she pulled back, her body still shivering. Reaching down to push off his boxers, she frowned when Eros stilled her hand.

"How long has it been, love?" he whispered, cupping her cheek gently with his free hand.

Realizing how tight she had been around his fingers had clued him in, Psyche laced her fingers with his, smiling slightly as she blushed. "A little while," she admitted. "But it's you, Eros. Please, don't make me wait for you anymore."

Letting her push his boxers off, Eros settled over her body and kissed her deeply, wrapping one of her legs around his waist. Resting his forehead against hers, he kissed her, rubbing their noses together. "You'll stop me if you're uncomfortable?"

Psyche nodded, smiling again, wrapping one hand around his waist, the other cupping his cheek. "I promise," she whispered. She felt him start to breach; the stretch was the most incredible pleasure she had ever felt in her life. Arching her hips, Psyche couldn't believe the ache could feel so wonderful.

She closed her eyes as a gasp left her, but Eros said, "No, look at me. Am I hurting you?"

Opening her eyes, Psyche shook her head. "It doesn't hurt," she breathed, wrapping her other leg around his hips, forcing him suddenly deeper, sliding him fully inside her all at once.

Eros froze, bringing both hands to cradle her face. "Psyche?" he asked with worry, noticing tears in her eyes.

Smiling brightly, she laughed. All she could feel were memories pouring through her; their life, their home, this man in her arms. "Welcome home, husband," Psyche greeted.

Staring down at her, Eros kissed her suddenly before drawing back and laughing, making them both groan as he shifted deep inside her. "Welcome back, wife," he murmured.

Pulling almost completely out of her body, Eros slammed back into her, forcing a harsh cry from her throat. Gripping his hair, Psyche hooked her ankles behind his back, head thrown back into the pillows. He kissed and nipped along her throat, down to suckle at her nipples.

"I...oh fuck, I won't last!" she cried out, arching her hips higher to meet his own.

"This long waiting for you, neither will I," he groaned, pulling up to sit back on his knees, staring down at her. "Touch yourself, Psyche. Let me see it."

Running her hands down over her breasts to touch where they were joined, she sucked in a breath before starting to circle her nub. Psyche watched his eyes darken as they followed the path down her body, and she felt her body tighten around him, making her rub faster. Her breath was sharp as their eyes met, her thighs tightening on his hips when Psyche felt him rub inside her in the right spot. "Eros...yes! FUCK YES!" she screamed, her hips bucking up higher against his body.

His thrusts became harder, more erratic, before he slumped over her, his body still moving slowly as he spilled deep inside her. He kissed her gently, his hands stroking her sides and face lovingly while their bodies spasmed around each other. When they drew away for air, Eros slid from her body, pulling her into his side.

Kissing his chest, Psyche glanced up at him, smiling lazily. After several minutes of drawing careless patterns on his chest, she became aware of another need. "Okay...I kind of desperately need food...once I can walk," she said with a laugh.

"Food sounds good," he agreed, laughing and glancing down. "Want me to carry you?"

Psyche sat up and slapped his chest, shaking her head as she chuckled. "Shut up! And does an omelet sound okay?"

Nodding, he leaned up to kiss her. "It sounds perfect."

After pulling on the clothes she had worn to sleep, and Eros his jeans, they moved to the kitchen; Psyche shredding cheese while Eros chopped vegetables for the omelet. A sudden thought made her pause and she glanced over at him. "I'm 26 now, Eros," she murmured, a deep frown on her face.

"Yes," he agreed, putting down what he held in his hands to look at her.

"But...you're immortal. That means...That means you only have me for this life, and then..." Psyche's voice died off as she went to go get plates from the cupboard, unable to finish the sentence. Turning to see the pain on his face as he stared at her, she whispered, "Oh gods..."

"That's not going to happen again," came a voice from behind Psyche.

She startled and dropped the plates, jumping as they shattered. Turning around, it was to see a stunning woman in a cream-colored sweater, jeans, and high heels, her highlighted hair in long waves. Psyche stared, glanced down at the broken plates, then back up. "Aphrodite, I...I wasn't expecting you," she said suddenly.

"I wouldn't think you were!" she replied with a wide smile, waving her hand. The plates appeared on the counter, back together again, before the goddess approached and pulled the young woman in for a hug. "It's good to see you again, Psyche. You've been missed."

Accepting the hug with wide eyes, she glanced at Eros, then frowned back at the goddess. "Wait, you said that's not going to happen again? What did you mean?"

Pulling back, Aphrodite reached up to touch Psyche's hair, smiling gently. "The legends had it all wrong, you know. When you learned of my son, you and I became quite close," she explained. "And when you were taken from us, from him, so suddenly and by such a foolish accident..." Aphrodite shook her head and sighed. "We all mourned, but I've had to watch Eros suffer and wait so long for you. I was going to give this to you all those years ago, but I waited too long. And you, my lovely darling, are far too clumsy to risk losing again."

"As the car proved last night," Eros grumbled.

"You distracted me!" Psyche protested, looking over at him with a pout. "And Odysseus with my phone!"

"And actually, that was partially Dionysus' fault," Aphrodite put in, frowning. "And he is currently being punished.

"Dion!" Eros exploded angrily. "He's an irresponsible, arrogant, drunken, asshole!"

"Evidently, he was drinking nearby. He didn't mean to hit her, but when he recognized Psyche, and then saw you there...he panicked and came back to Olympus to confess," Aphrodite explained. "He was worried he had killed Psyche, and that you would kill him in return, Eros."

"He's damned right," Eros replied, bristling.

Rolling her eyes, Psyche turned to him, snapping her fingers in his direction. "Eros, focus!" she scolded him. "That can all be done later. For now, Aphrodite, you were talking about giving me something you meant to back then?"

Beaming, Aphrodite looked at Eros, then turned to the young woman before her. Holding out her hand flat in front of her, a bowl appeared on it with what looked like red jello in it. Taking Psyche's hand, Aphrodite placed the bowl in her hand. "Let's call this an early wedding gift for this time around," she said with a soft smile.

"Oh, Mom," Eros said warmly, coming to wrap his arms around Psyche's waist, kissing her neck.

Staring at the substance, she frowned. "I'm sorry, I've taken in a lot in a short amount of time...someone explain please?" Psyche asked with a sigh.

"It's ambrosia, my love," Eros murmured against her skin.

Her eyes widening, Psyche turned to the goddess in front of her. "I...I don't know what to say," she whispered.

"Promise me lots of grandbabies," Aphrodite replied with a laugh.

Reaching for a piece of the jello, she put it in her mouth, finding it perfectly sweet, but otherwise, couldn't pinpoint a flavour for it. Licking her lips, she glanced between them. "Should I feel different?"

"No. But, your aging has stopped. Your injuries will heal almost instantly," Eros explained.

"If you like the taste, eat the rest," Aphrodite offered. "It won't hurt. Now, I'll leave you two to keep...getting reacquainted. But I'm expecting you for dinner tomorrow."

Walking over to plant a kiss on her cheek, Eros nodded. "I promise, Mom. And thank you."

"I'm just sorry it took so long," she replied, hugging him close.

When he pulled back, Psyche had set the bowl down, her eyes welling as she stared at Aphrodite. When the goddess pulled her in for a hug, Psyche whispered, "Thank you again. I don't know how else to say it..."

Pulling back to wipe the tears off the younger woman's cheek, Aphrodite grinned at her. "I already told you; grandbabies."

Laughing as the goddess disappeared, Psyche glanced over her shoulder at Eros. "I'm not really hungry for food anymore..."

Chuckling darkly, he kissed the top of her head. "Oh no, you need the food, my love," he growled. "We both do. Because tonight...Tonight is going to be a long one for both of us."

Turning in his arms, Psyche wrapped her arms around his neck, gripping his hair and pulling her down towards her lips. "I love you, Eros."

"I've _always_ loved you, Psyche," he replied, his mouth meeting hers.


End file.
